


HVAC

by spellcastersjudgement



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 08:19:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15069053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellcastersjudgement/pseuds/spellcastersjudgement
Summary: Carly played volleyball in high school.





	HVAC

**Author's Note:**

> the other 5ds otp im so glad i got this prompt so i can dump my feelings abt these two on the general public 
> 
> i love how like different they are, how carly's all bubbly and goofy and high energy and outgoing and jack is....well jack is jack and he pretends not to have feelings but he has a massive fuckin soft spot for his girl

#20: a kiss on a scar 

Carly peeled herself off of the dining room chair, cursing the weather with every bead of sweat that ran down the back of her neck. It was the end of August, classes had just begun, and now the air conditioner had decided it wanted to break. Jack, who was usually an endearing level of insufferable, had now passed into flat out insufferable. Several loud phone calls later, hollering at the top of his lungs, sweating to death in the leather outfits he adamantly refused to take off because it’s what the fans want, Carly (even though they were at home where there were no fans), the HVAC company had agreed to come out–on Saturday. It was Thursday, and Carly was not looking forward to sweating through forty-eight hours with renowned duelist and diva Jack Atlas.

As she watched the water dispense into her cup, she thought about crawling into the freezer. Jack could lift her up, stuff her in there–she could probably fit if she dislocated a few joints, but it would be relief. Unfortunately, Jack wasn’t here to lift her up, and there wasn’t any light in the freezer for her to finish her assignment–what kind of professor gave homework during syllabus week?–so the table would have to do for now.

Shorts were supposed to make it easier to tolerate the heat, but as Carly sank back down into the chair and all she could think about was how if she were wearing leggings she wouldn’t be sticky. The laptop seemed to be a space heater, only adding to the discomfort, and as Carly put her glasses back on to stare at the video editor she thought of how Akiza would never be subject to the horrors of an overheated computer. This would be the one situation where she’d rather stare at books than look through a camera lens, and she texted her best friend as such.

Akiza responded after a moment, telling her to come down to Yusei’s shop and work with her, the air conditioning worked and she could come over afterward, Jack was welcome too.

That wouldn’t be a bad idea–the going to Akiza’s afterward. Going to the shop would end in a very unproductive evening, as when Jack and Yusei got together they did more arguing or running off to some corner of the garage to tinker with Yusei’s latest pet project. Either way no work got done and Jack would get a smudge on his shirt or get a pimple on his chin a couple days later and blame it on the impure air of the shop.

She texted Akiza asking if she and Jack could come crash in their living room tonight, thinking about the sweat sliding down her spine, making her shiver in disgust. Jack would be home any minute from training–or was today interviews? There was too much to keep track of in Jack Atlas’s schedule and Carly could only be bothered to remember his matches and tournaments so that she could attend and cheer for him.

Pushing sweaty bangs back with an equally sweaty hand, Carly thought about convincing–or well asking, because it’s not like Jack would need to be pushed–him to call the HVAC company back and demand that they come out today instead of Saturday. This was a hostile work environment, the phone nearly sliding out of her fingers as she sweat.

The sound of a motorcycle in the driveway made Carly stand up–bad idea, she thought as once again she felt her thighs peeling off the chair–walking over to the door, opening it to lean against the door frame.

Jack turned off the engine, pulling his helmet off and running his fingers through his choppy blonde hair, cheeks glistening with sweat–it looked like highlighter, like he’d carefully, artfully applied the sweat to his face to accentuate his cheekbones. Of course, he looked absolutely miserable as he swung his leg over the motorcycle, the tight pants barely allowing him to bend his legs enough to walk. Carly, who lived in leggings and oversized t-shirts, most of which she stole from Jack who wouldn’t be caught dead leaving the house in them, never understood her boyfriend’s need to be fully dressed and made up, especially in such horrible weather, but watching his clothes hug every bit of muscle as he walked toward the door made her thirsty, and not for water.

It was too hot to even think about that, ugh.

“Hey!” she tried to inject her usual energy into greeting him, but just lifting her arm to wave was exhausting, the humidity making everything heavier, harder. 

He didn’t say anything, only towered over her, putting a gloved hand on her head to ruffle her hair, his standard greeting. Today she’d tied it back in a ponytail, leaving only her bangs free to move, which annoyed him–she could see by the slight narrowing of his lilac eyes, the downward quirk of his mouth. He was fond of her hair, had even helped her dye it last time–she could feel another rant about the stupid repairmen and how it was their fault she was wearing her hair up coming on.

“Shorts,”

Carly shut the door. “Oh yeah–unlike you I’m not interested in dying of heat stroke,” 

“Hmph,” Jack set his helmet down on the dining table, next to her laptop, crinkling the edge of her notebook. 

“Take your clothes off,” Carly followed him into the kitchen, reaching out her hand to tug on the back of his shirt. 

“Aren’t you being bold today,” Jack quipped. “It’s too hot for that, Carly,” 

Somehow her face managed to get hotter as she realized the innuendo. Jack opened the fridge, and from where she was standing behind him she could feel he blast of cold air, making her think of crawling in there and dragging Jack with her. “That’s not what I meant, you ass! Looking at you in long sleeves and pants–it’s making me sweat and I’m tired of looking at you in it,”

He popped open a can of that horrid sparkling water he so loved, turning back around, looking down his nose at her as he took a long sip. She looked up at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Jack, come on–we’re going to Akiza and Yusei’s tonight, but for right now, please take that off,” 

“If I didn’t have a headache, I would be throwing you over my shoulders,” Jack put down the can, stripping off his shirt without pretense, dropping it on the counter. “You picked a horribly inconvenient time to be so demanding,” 

“I’ll remember that for when the house is at a normal temperature,” she laughed, even getting a small smile from her boyfriend that he tried to conceal behind another sip. 

“When are we going over?” he asked, leaning against the counter. 

“Um, uh–I guess when Akiza gets home,” Carly said. 

Jack nodded, looking down, but not quite at her, something slightly to the left holding his attention. Carly looked to the right, expecting to see a mirage of a swimming pool or a bathtub full of ice–her head was certainly foggy enough to start hallucinating. There was, unfortunately, nothing but the air waving as light poured in from the kitchen window. Maybe Jack wasn’t looking at anything–he did say he had a headache. 

“What’s that?” 

Carly looked up at him. “What’s what?” 

His hand landed on her shoulder, pulling the thin strap of her tank top down, his fingers tracing a thin, raised line that ran from her deltoid to her clavicle. His palm was searing against her skin as he rested it on her forearm, still rubbing the spot with his thumb. 

“Oh, oh–in high school I played volleyball. I tore my rotator cuff and had to get surgery–never played again but I was the manager and worked with the coach and stuff. Got to take lots of pictures and go to all the games and write about them in the yearbook,” Carly explained, the fond memories bringing a smile to her face. “I thought I told you about it,” 

“You did,” Jack said, crushing the can with his right hand and tossing it into the recycle bin, not even bothering to look, still staring at her scar. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before,” 

“Hey, when I’ve got my shirt off in front of you it’s not like you’re looking at my shoulders,” she laughed. “It’s not a big deal, I mean, it’d disqualify me from military service since I have the full range of motion, but I’m not too beat up about it, y’know,” 

Jack was silent, still stroking the scar with his thumb. Carly couldn’t figure out why he was so entranced, but she knew her boyfriend well enough to not interrupt him in his musings. 

“Did it hurt?” 

“The surgery? I mean the physical therapy was annoying but not too painful. If anything it was great because I got out of so many tests and stuff because I couldn’t use my dominant hand–oh, oh! And my mom finally bought me that tripod for my camera because I couldn’t hold it steady with my left hand, so actually, no I don’t think it was painful,” she answered. “I mean, that’s when I really started getting into photography and stuff, and–”

She stopped talking as Jack bent down, pressing his lips to the scar, bringing his right hand to rest on her other shoulder. His bangs tickled her neck, the heat radiating off of him adding to her discomfort but she was not going to move away–Jack was pulling back, looking down at her, eyes uncharacteristically soft, the slightest frown on his face. 

“Jack?” she asked. 

“I hate thinking about you hurting,” he whispered. 

“Don’t worry,” she reached out to tug on one of the strands of hair that came down well past his pectorals. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, I promise,” 

“Will you tell me if it does?” he asked. 

She twirled the blonde strand around her index finger, smiling up at him. “Of course, Jack,” 

His hand slid up her shoulder, her neck, laying on her face, and Carly thought she was going to faint from the affection in his eyes, the way it was making her blush, only adding to the heat in the room. 

“Come on, let’s go,” Jack broke the moment by picking her up without warning, his shoulder digging in to her ribs as she yelped, his hand resting on her backside, making her blush even more. 

“Where? What are you doing?” she asked, kicking her legs as Jack started up the stairs. “Jack! I can walk!” 

“My headache’s gone,” he said. “It’s hot, and after telling me to take my clothes off I want a shower. With you,” 

Carly’s feet hit the bathroom floor. Jack was already stripping off his pants. 

“Get in. We can’t show up to Yusei’s smelling like this, and I’m not interested in christening his couch,” 

“That’s a lie, Jack,” Carly laughed. 

He looked at her, thoughtful. “You’re right. I would love to see his face. You know what, Carly? Put your clothes back on,” 

That wasn’t usually what he told her. “What?” 

Jack looked up from where he was re-buttoning his pants, a devious grin. “We’re going to Yusei’s–we’re going to destroy his couch, then we’re going to steal all of his hot water,”

**Author's Note:**

> jack is drinking la croix he loves that stuff and its canon bc i have said it lmao 
> 
> I’m excited to announce that I’m open for [commissions!](https://spellcastersjudgement.tumblr.com/post/174622005229/hey-yall-horrible-puns-and-cheesy-banner-aside) I also have a [Ko-Fi!](https://ko-fi.com/spellcastersjudgement) Thank you for donating/commissioning!


End file.
